


Hot to Touch, Holding You

by fairydustedtheory



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Barebacking, Explicit Sexual Content, Future Fic, M/M, Oblivious Stiles Stilinski, POV Stiles Stilinski, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Sharing Body Heat, Sharing a Bed, Top Derek Hale/Bottom Stiles Stilinski, i don't even know what to tag but you know : SEX
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:54:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28934373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairydustedtheory/pseuds/fairydustedtheory
Summary: The pack bonding weekend Stiles had hoped for has gone terribly wrong: everybody cancelled on him.Now he's here alone with Derek of all people. Stuck in a fucking snow storm, with little else to do but... keep warm.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 34
Kudos: 673
Collections: A Very Sterek Winter 2021, Teen Wolf





	Hot to Touch, Holding You

**Author's Note:**

> Written for A Very Sterek Winter 2021. Day 6 : Body Heat  
>    
> This is so self-indulgent and I love it, it was supposed to be a short pwp and it turned into 8k because who am i kidding here, there are always feelings involved with these two. 
> 
> Not my first ever written but my first ever /published/ explicit content (yay for growth and a little bit more of self confidence as time passes *throws confetti*) 
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](https://fairydustedtheory.tumblr.com/tagged/plot%20twist%20:%20i%20write)
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

“They won’t show up? What do you mean they won’t show up?” Stiles’ life was ruined. 

“They’re not coming,” was all Derek had to add to that. Fucker.

“But what about the weekend?” Stiles was being purposefully obtuse. There was no more weekend. “Two days. That was all I wanted… And again, I’m just left there wondering why I ever let myself want things to begin with because it always ends like this! And what the fuck did you come all this way to tell me that for? Texting exists, you know. Use it sometime!”

Derek didn’t answer.

Stiles was overreacting maybe. It happened a lot with the Beacon Hills gang that plans had to change last minute. He shouldn’t be so surprised or so disappointed. It wasn’t a first and wouldn’t be a last.

“But now we’re stuck,” Stiles sighed and closed the front door with a loud bang as if it was going to make things change by magic. “That’s it, we’re stuck. And nobody’s coming! I swear the moment I graduate and I’m finally moving back home, I’ll kick all of your asses, nobody is going to be safe from my wrath. This kind of shit will be done for good.”

This would never have happened before. In Stiles’ life from before, there weren’t any blizzards. When Stiles was a highschooler, nothing like this would have happened. Sure, they could have all died a thousand different ways but not like this. Nobody gets snowed in in Beacon Hills. 

This was Stiles’ curse for having gone to college up North and also for having befriended this stupid Kevin guy who kept bragging about this place, described it as the best place in the world and offered Stiles the keys for a weekend getaway with his friends from back home. 

It was always so difficult to invite them here. Scott could definitely pass, sleep on the floor of Stiles’ dorm, but Scott was never moving alone these days and even if Allison accepted to sleep on the floor, Stiles couldn’t ask that of her. He had manners. 

This place sounded perfect. Perfect for some pack bonding time.

Now it was just perfect for some agony and nothing else.

“I don’t think breaking the door will make things any better,” Derek deadpanned from somewhere in the room. His voice was flat, as flat as only Derek Hale was capable of conveying. He was truly unimpressed. 

Stiles whirled around and crossed his arms over his chest. “You think this is funny?”

He knew the answer to that. What could possibly be amusing to Derek here? They were both stuck. They were _both_ stuck. Not all stuck. Because (Stiles was turning a little hysterical now), Scott had cancelled at the last minute. Allison was sick or something and he didn’t want to leave her. Isaac, Boyd and Erica were supposed to come a little later because they still had midterms but now Derek had just announced that they weren’t coming. And Derek was supposed to drive up with Cora but had arrived without her and without any explanation either. 

The pack bonding weekend had already turned into the pack bonding weekend of hell. And that was until the blizzard showed up uninvited. Okay, Stiles could have checked the weather before planning this trip but Kevin hadn’t reminded him to do so. It was all Kevin’s fault.

What were the chances of Stiles surviving the weekend alone with Derek? They were probably going to yell at each other for 48h straight, and Derek was probably going to threaten to rip Stiles’ throat out with his teeth and Stiles would probably threaten to do the same thing but with a spoon to make it last longer. That was how this weekend was going to go. Stiles just knew it.

“No, it isn’t funny,” Derek rolled his eyes. “What do you wanna do?”

Stiles gritted his teeth and walked toward the LCD display near the door. “I guess I’m just going to turn on the heater and we’ll wait it out.”

Of course. After tapping the screen a few times and trying to find and press a button somewhere around the display without luck, Stiles came to the conclusion that he was in fact cursed and doomed to die at the wonderful young age of twenty one. 

“There’s no heat,” he finally said, scratching the back of his neck, defeated. “Because of course, there’s no fucking heat. This weekend keeps getting worse. It’s the worst. And now, we’re stuck here _together_. Ugh. No, sorry, that sounded worse than what I meant. I just meant-” 

Derek moved, though Stiles didn’t have it in him to actually look him in the eyes. It was all his fault that Derek was going to spend a terrible weekend - if the weather actually got better by the end of the weekend, for all Stiles knew, it could turn into a terrible week.

“I guess there’s nothing for me to do but go to bed and try to stay warm under the blankets,” Stiles was resigned. “I’ll get out of your air.”

Derek wouldn’t suffer too much, werewolves ran hotter than humans so he should most probably be fine. He would still suffer from boredom and bad company, Stiles was bad company in Derek’s book. That wasn’t brand new information. So Stiles was going to go to bed and curl up in a fetal position and at least Derek wouldn’t have to suffer in his presence. 

What would be the point of staying together in the living room and watching the snow fall? It wasn’t like this was a romantic weekend getaway and they would make love near the fireplace. There was no fireplace, and there definitely wasn’t love either.

Derek agreed with everything, or at least didn’t contradict him as he stayed silent and let Stiles make his way upstairs so he could wallow in his chilly despair.

Stiles quickly found the blankets and duvets (at least Kevin’s family had quality stuff and it smelled clean) and with a loud exhale of all his misery, Stiles bundled himself in the blankets before letting his body fall like dead weight on the mattress. He missed his dorm. He would never complain about the dorm’s shitty bedding and the noise and everything ever again.

*

Stiles woke up shivering. It would have been too wonderful if he had fallen into a coma and woken up when the sun came out in two or more days. 

Instead of the sunlight waking him up, it was pitch darkness.

He tried to ignore it, curled up on himself and closed his eyes again to ignore the cold. He had about three or four blankets all wrapped around him. And the cabin wasn’t cheap, it was the fancy ass cabin Kevin had bragged about, and yet, the wind blowing and snow falling could be heard fighting and beating against the windows.

Stiles hated everything.

He wondered what Derek was doing. This was the worst vacation ever offered to anyone.

Stiles startled when the door creaked open. 

Was there a point trying to pretend to be sleeping? Fuck werewolves and their fucking senses. They knew too much.

“Stiles?”

“Everything’s fine, Derek, no need for your overprotective alpha’s ass here,” Stiles bit out a little too harshly. He was cold dammit. He forced himself to not shiver just to prove his point.

“I can hear your teeth chattering all the way from downstairs.” It didn’t sound as accusatory as Stiles had expected, more on the side of worried.

“I’m fine,” Stiles insisted, still he turned around to face him like the conversation wasn’t over. He was freaking cold and his brain made no sense.

“You’re not.”

“I’m just a little cold,” Stiles hoped that was close enough to the truth to not be called out. 

Derek didn’t say anything but Stiles heard him, more than saw him, take the few steps separating the door from the bed. “Scoot.”

Stiles didn’t move, didn’t even understand the command but suddenly he yelped as he felt a gush of cold air hit his body before the cold was replaced by something else. Warmth. Oh that was Derek, Stiles’ brain was finally catching up.

It was just so awkward to feel Derek’s body coming to press himself up against him. Stiles didn’t dare move at all because God forbid he brushed against something he shouldn’t. It wouldn’t have been his fault though. He wasn’t the one sneaking into someone else’s bed right now. He didn’t move, but that didn’t stop Derek from coming closer and closer, all the parts were brushing, of that Stiles was very aware, but he didn’t know how he found himself pressed on the mattress and how one of Derek’s legs found its way where it was now. 

“What are you doing?” Stiles squawked. He was too comfortable to think about moving away or even trying to get any part of him free from Derek’s hold. “You’re a werewolf, not an octopus!”

It was just not fair that Derek’s body felt so wonderful against him.

It had gotten colder. The temperature had been dropping fast along with the night, but right now Stiles had no care in the world. Everything came down to the feeling of burning warmth slowly and steadily sweeping through his body. Shit, it felt good. And not just the warmth but Derek too. 

“Don’t think I’m letting just anyone into my bed, Big Guy. Take me granting you access like the fucking honor that it is,” Stiles groaned, though it sounded a little bit weak. He was so comfortable against Derek. God, this shouldn’t be allowed.

“Okay,” Derek answered softly. 

His fingers brushed against Stiles’ side and found their way to his icy cold skin.

Stiles swore he didn’t moan at the touch.

It felt nice. Nice and cozy and like Stiles could really fall asleep and sleep through the night with Derek there keeping him warm and safe. 

“We should take our shirts off!” Stiles blurted out before sleep could take him for good. His heart rate picked up when he realized how that sounded. “For warmth. Skin on skin is always best for sharing warmth and if you insist on invading my space then I demand to get all the warmth I can get. For warmth reasons only.”

“Okay,” Derek said again.

It was just that easy, huh?

*****

It felt so warm when he woke up. Derek’s skin was the best kind of fireplace, the best kind of hot water bottle, just the best kind. Stiles had never felt as warm as he did with Derek’s body still pressed up against his back, Derek’s breath warm against the nape of his neck. 

It felt so good and so inviting, Stiles had to press back into him with his whole body. 

Derek let out a small moan in his sleep and that was the moment when Stiles’ brain caught up with everything. Derek was… hard. And Stiles had just pressed his ass right there. And… yeah that should be a lot more awkward than it felt.

It was embarrassing the way Stiles’ heart was definitely skyrocketing. He was definitely wide awake now. 

It was also incredibly hot. Derek was shirtless and warm and a little sweaty and hard against him right now. 

Stiles forced his eyes to close again. He wasn’t going to do anything so better go back to sleep. Sure, he could have moved away, it would have been the best, most honest thing to do. Derek wasn’t hard because of Stiles, right? Just some awkward case of morning wood. Who knew what was in Derek’s dream right now, who was in Derek’s dream… It certainly wasn’t Stiles.

Yeah…

Stiles wasn’t that good of a person though. He wasn’t the most honest person. And he wasn’t going to deprive himself of the warmth of a werewolf and go freeze his ass off in the cold and unoccupied part of the bed just to pretend he was a gentleman. 

Stiles was just going to go back to sleep and bask in this stolen dishonest warmth and pretend like nothing happened in the morning. 

“Oh,” Derek breathed out at that exact moment. 

Stiles felt Derek’s eyes startle open against the short hair at the back of his neck. That was how close they were.

Derek struggled a little to move back, Stiles was really in there taking space and holding on, he hadn’t really realized how tight he was holding on to Derek’s arm until he felt Derek pull away. 

Derek’s cock pressed harder against Stiles’ ass as he tried to untangle their limbs. They were both still wearing their sweatpants, thank God. But even through the layers, Stiles could feel the full length of Derek against him.

He couldn’t say who moaned. It could have been him? 

It was so wrong. Stiles enjoyed that, of course he enjoyed that, Stiles was very much bi and this was Derek fucking Hale, aka the hottest guy to walk the Earth. How could Stiles not enjoy that? But Derek was still definitely trying to move away and Stiles had to bid farewell to the delicious feeling after having had just a tiny ridiculous sample to taste.

Stiles’ heart was beating double time. There was no point trying to pretend he wasn’t awake too.

“Sorry,” Derek mumbled a little hesitant, as if talking right now could make it any worse. 

“No problem, dude, you know, not a problem, it’s fine, so fine, uuuuuh…” Stiles stopped because this wasn’t making it much better either. All he could think about was having Derek’s body back against him and maybe more than just that. How good it would feel to just… His breath caught in his throat, shit, Stiles was making himself horny now. 

“It’s not fine,” Derek was on the self-flagellation train apparently. Stiles could feel him trying to curl up on himself and put even more space between them. 

That was just wrong, Derek had been nice enough to warm Stiles up and save him from an inevitable icy death and now he felt miserable because of some silly erection. 

“Hey, hey,” Stiles managed to untangle himself from the pile of blankets to turn to face Derek even though he could barely see anything in the dark. “Listen, it’s fine.”

Derek didn’t answer. 

“I have lube!” Stiles blurted out. What was he even saying? It just came out just like that. He was definitely going to get punched in the throat now.

“What?” Derek sounded pained. 

It was probably because of the darkness. Stiles wasn’t doing great with sensory deprivation, he needed his eyes to see the full extent of the sass in Derek’s eyebrows. It all felt strange like this in the dark.

“Yeah, we can totally take care of that if you want,” Stiles wasn’t going to go back on his word now, he was nothing if not a man of his word. “You know, two guys helping each other out in the dead of winter. I have lube,” Stiles was oversharing and Derek wasn’t stopping him, why wasn’t Derek stopping him? “I don’t have condoms, because I, well, let’s just say this was not in my plans for a pack bonding weekend, but I’m adaptable to change of plans and I could absolutely consider that a bonding activity and uuuh, I don’t think condoms are necessary for werewolves so everyone is safe and sound and, and, I really don’t care about how messy it gets. I mean Kevin probably won’t ever lend me the key to this place again anyway. Let’s ruin the bed for all I care!” 

Stiles felt out of breath and incoherent. Was he making sense at all here? Derek wasn’t talking or moving and yet he was still in the bed with Stiles who was making a complete fool out of himself. 

“Or not? Only if you want to,” Stiles concluded. “We don’t have to, of course, we don’t have to. Uh, how about we pretend I never said anything and just go back to sleep?”

Derek didn’t say anything, but he went along when Stiles reached for his arm and turned around as he wrapped himself in it, recovering their initial position. Stiles was a sucker for being the little spoon and it was still way too cold outside of the covers to try to pretend anything else.

It was bravery, or stupidity, that made him rock his hips back against Derek. 

Derek let out a soft sigh before burying his face in the back of Stiles’ neck, moving to nuzzle at the side of his throat. 

Derek was still hard. Nothing about the whole mortification of what had just happened had been enough to change that. And Stiles had to admit he had been half hard the whole time too and now very fast on the way to a full erection. 

Derek was moving, slow, so agonizingly slow, rocking his hips up against Stiles’ ass. They were still clothed and Stiles wasn’t sure if he should mention that or just shut the hell up and see where this was actually going. His eyes drifted closed again, just feeling the moment, feeling Derek pin him against the mattress with his body, feeling his hands finding intent in the way they brushed against his skin now.

“Are we really doing this?” Stiles asked. It came out hoarse and breathless. Stiles really couldn’t believe it, but the way Derek’s body felt big and heavy over him proved that this wasn’t some figment of his imagination. 

“Hmhm,” Derek hummed, still nuzzling Stiles’ neck, mouthing at the soft skin there, breathing behind Stiles’ ear. Shit, from this alone, he could tell Derek was good at this. Stiles had been right, he wasn’t going to survive the weekend. 

His brain short circuited for a moment, the only thing he knew was that he was most definitely whining into his pillow and trying with all his power of will to move back against Derek’s body to feel him even more.

And yeah, lube. Lube would be great right now.

Stiles tried to reach for his backpack which was somewhere near the bedside table but he failed miserably, Derek still pressing him down and finding it smart to grab Stiles’ hand. And Stiles, who had no brains at all either, thought it was the time to intertwine their fingers together. Like that made sense. 

Derek mouthing the side of his neck turned into nibbling and sucking. Stiles could barely breathe with how turned on he was.

“Dude,” Stiles sounded so gone already. It was a little ridiculous. 

He could feel Derek’s cock pressed up against him and shit, he needed them to be naked now. 

“Dude, you gotta kiss me first,” Stiles found it in himself to smirk at that. He had class, he wasn’t going to come from just dry humping a mattress.

Okay, it was the best dry humping a mattress he had ever experienced in his life because he was now experiencing it with a sexy werewolf and feeling their skin slowly slicking up with sweat and want.

But still. Stiles had principles.

Right now these principles were only focused on the deep bone need he felt to wrap his arms around Derek’s shoulders, pull him close, look at him in the slow grey morning light, still heavy with snow but now enough to distinguish shapes, Stiles would very much like to distinguish the expression on Derek’s face when they finally got to the actual part of fucking.

They were getting there.

Either they were or Derek was the worst kind of tease. Stiles would not let him live it down if he was pulling a prank.

No way. 

He couldn’t make sense of this need he had to see Derek, he just knew he needed it, he needed to see him and kiss him and tangle his fingers in his hair as they fucked and that was just it. 

Weird thoughts like these were filling his mind, probably due to the fact that all his blood was rushing downward now.

“Yeah,” Derek stopped to swallow. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

Suddenly, the room spun upside down as Derek flipped Stiles on his back like he weighed nothing. Fucking werewolf strength, stupidly hot. Stiles felt dizzy, almost seeing stars. 

With the newly found freedom of movement, Stiles had the instinctual response to pull down his sweatpants just enough to get his cock free. Efficiency at its finest.

Derek’s eyes drifted over Stiles’ body like he couldn’t stop himself, starting at his face and sliding down the entire length of his chest, lingering on his cock and then moving back up to find Stiles’ gaze again. Eyes flashing red for a split-second.

The expression on his face. God. Stiles couldn’t remember if he had ever been the reason someone looked that turned on. 

“Stiles,” Derek’s voice sounded like a growl, deeper and lower than usual.

“That is my name,” Stiles tried to be cheeky, at least as much as he could manage, while he glanced down to look at the smooth planes of Derek’s abs and down to see Derek pull his own pants down. 

Well, hello. 

The abs were no news but Derek’s cock? That was a brand new experience. The few quick glimpses of it Stiles had caught before or after a full wolf shift really didn’t do it justice. Not at all.

“Are you sure about this?” Derek asked. 

“Yeah. What could go wrong? You could kill me with the superhuman power of your dick, you could get me pregnant -“

Derek rolled his eyes so hard Stiles was thankful for the darkness because he probably would be able to see the inside of Derek’s brain.

“- or stuck on your knot-”

“You know full well none of that exists,” Derek said.

“- or you could fall in love with me,” Stiles continued and even the small twitch of Derek’s hand on the skin of his hip wasn’t enough to deter him. “or you could decide you want to turn me so I’ll become a true alpha and take the lead of your pack. We all know there is 100% chance that would happen and you're all shitting your pants about it.”

Derek shook his head. Stiles bit his lip to keep from grinning. He enjoyed annoying Derek so much. Shit, he had missed this. 

“To answer your question: I’m sure,” Stiles shrugged one shoulder, as if this was something he dealt with on the regular.

He dragged one hand over Derek’s chest, over to where his heart was but instead of some romantic caress, Stiles felt like flicking his nipple, which he did. He was a little shit in life and in sex alike.

Derek groaned. It sounded partially like one of these annoyed growls he only directed at Stiles. And partially like a moan, just enough to prove that even with Stiles being the idiot that he was, Derek was still on board.

“Get the lube from my bag, because I’m not moving out there!” Stiles made a show of snuggling his pillow, fluttering his eyelashes. 

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” Derek snorted as he reached for Stiles’ backpack, and came back with the small bottle. 

It was small, and not entirely full. Stiles had only planned to have some supplies in case someone, anyone, pissed him off so bad he needed to go jerk all his frustration out of him through his dick. He hadn’t planned on a sexathlon in the blizzard cocoon. 

Wait, he was getting ahead of himself again. This was most definitely just a one time thing. There was definitely enough lube for a one time thing. No point or reason to think of anything beyond that. 

Not even when he heard the distinct click of the bottle and found Derek’s eyes focused on his fingers when he looked up again. 

Oh fuck. Stiles’ heart was trying to explode with anticipation. 

He needed something to focus on, something to do. And what better occupation than reaching for Derek’s cock, hard and thick in his hand. 

Derek skimmed a hand up Stiles’ thigh, rearranging him like he saw fit, and Stiles just let him, until one slicked finger touched his skin, teasing for a few seconds before slipping inside. Derek sank it in, eyes not leaving Stiles’ face, almost as if he was gauging Stiles’ reaction or waiting for Stiles to change his mind and push him off. That wasn’t going to happen, Stiles made a point of relaxing every muscle in his body so Derek would see and feel how much he wanted this.

Derek pumped his finger in and out in a couple slow strokes. Okay. Stiles’ brain wasn’t losing focus anymore. 

Stiles’ hand tightened around Derek’s cock as he kept jerking him off slow and steady because he refused to be the one getting undone and not undo in return. Stiles was a generous guy like that.

“If you keep that up, it’ll be over before it starts,” Derek warned.

“What? That easily?” Stiles was genuinely surprised. What about werewolf stamina?

“ _Yes_ , Stiles, that easily,” Derek bit out, and slipped a second finger along with the first as retaliation. Such an asshole.

The worst part was that two fingers already felt amazing. So amazing, Stiles couldn’t even imagine what more would feel like, what it would be in 5 minutes when a third finger joined in, or when Derek would stop being a fucking tease trying to make sure Stiles was prepped thoroughly and would finally fuck him. All that was just out of the realm of what Stiles could imagine. 

Or more accurately, he could imagine it but nothing his brain supplied would ever come close to what this was actually like.

“What about that smart mouth of yours now, huh?” Derek asked. “You’re getting quiet.”

He slowed his fingers enough for Stiles to realize he was supposed to answer something. He should have had a sarcastic comment ready to fly out, mock Derek for being so close already. Anything. But he was feeling the same way, it was already too much and also not enough, Derek couldn’t honestly expect him to be snarky all the way through. Not when he was getting fingered like that.

Stiles felt hot, sweaty all over. 

“You were supposed to kiss me, dude,” Stiles was still waiting on that kiss. What about his standards? 

Derek rolled his eyes again and leaned in. That was just how it went with the two of them, Derek reluctantly following along with Stiles’ plans. 

Except that right now nothing exactly felt reluctant. The kiss was fucking hot, okay? Derek’s mouth just went for it and Stiles felt a little dazed as Derek’s tongue slipped in. 

Derek’s fingers started thrusting into him again, in sync with his tongue in Stiles’ mouth and… yeah, okay. 

Stiles had to admit that he had thought about Derek and kissing in the same sentence before. He had. Because as a bisexual young man, these things happened in his brain. Imagining how hot people kiss was a thing. It didn’t mean he had thought about it happening to him in this lifetime.

“Fuck,” Stiles had to break the kiss, gasping for air.

Derek didn’t waste any time kissing and licking a trail down Stiles’ neck. Stiles felt like floating. All of him just focused on Derek alone, the mattress beneath his body didn't even exist anymore. If he had been magic, he knew he would have made them both levitate with that one feeling. Stiles knew he was laughing but he was so breathless, no sound was coming out. 

Derek hummed in agreement against Stiles’ throat, teeth gently biting into his skin. Stubble burning and scraping with every brush.

By the time Derek finally added a third finger, Stiles just couldn’t take it anymore. Who would have thought? All he could do was hold on to Derek’s shoulders, digging his fingers hard into his skin.

And Derek wouldn’t even get any bruises from this. Shit.

“You think you’re ready?” Derek murmured after a moment, sounding as undone as Stiles felt. “You think -”

“I’m way past thinking. Fuck.” Stiles all but whimpered.

Derek dropped his head, forehead pressed in the crook of Stiles’ neck and just breathed for a minute. Even his fingers went completely still.

“Just -” Stiles pulled Derek’s hair hard enough for him to follow along and come back to kiss him. This time Derek let himself be kissed and it felt just as good to be the one giving as it was to be the one taking. Stiles intended to taste everything. Keep it going.

He groaned when Derek pulled his fingers out. He had to bite Derek’s lip a little hard just to show his disapproval. Hating the sudden emptiness though he approved of everything that was supposed to happen after. 

“Come on,” Stiles smirked. “Gimme all you got.”

Stiles couldn’t help but laugh again. He felt drunk. He went to grab his own dick, hard and lonely down there and begging to be touched.

Derek pulled one of Stiles’ thighs up around his hip. And then Derek was giving all he got, but slowly, so painfully slowly. He was hiding his face in Stiles’ neck again, doing his best to create a Derek shaped mark there for sure.

Stiles couldn’t even move the hand he had on his cock. Totally useless that he was. All he could do was breathe and give in to the need to gently pet Derek’s hair. Almost wanting to tell him he was doing good. Praise him.

Tingling all over, at the base of his spine and low in his belly. 

Derek finally bottomed out, not moving for another moment. Stiles couldn’t say how long, but fucking too long. 

He wanted to protest and tell Derek to just get on with the plan because this was getting stupid, Stiles wasn't going to break. But Derek started moving then. 

His lips. 

Derek was moving only his lips, mouthing up Stiles’ throat mumbling words Stiles couldn’t exactly grasp. Just kissing his skin, his face. It felt so sweet it was even painful. Both their breathing syncing to the rhythm of Derek’s kisses.

“You good?” Derek asked.

“No. I’m not good.” Stiles swallowed hard. “I need you to move, buddy. I need you to-“

Stiles surged up to kiss Derek again. He didn’t have clear words for what he specifically needed, and the look on Derek’s face had turned into something Stiles needed to erase right this second, so kissing was the way to go. Also because kissing Derek was absolutely fucking amazing and Stiles couldn’t get tired of it. Just a win win win situation here.

Stiles pressed on his thighs, tried to get Derek in even deeper, tried to get him to do something. Move, just fucking move.

“Derek, Der...” Stiles breathed out, whisper quiet, almost as if it was a secret. A strangely possessive secret, because the name felt like saying _mine_ on his tongue.

Something clicked in Derek, and now he started moving, thrusting deep. 

Stiles knew he was moaning, he wasn’t going to keep it in. At least not right now when he was just getting to feel everything that was Derek and feel his long hard thrusts sending electricity all through his body. 

Shit.

Stiles squeezed his eyes shut, focused on rocking back.

“Fuck, Stiles,” Derek pressed his forehead against Stiles’, blowing hot breath over his face with each pant. 

“Yeah, dude, you’re doing that.” 

Derek groaned, but his lips twitched into a smile from where they were pressed against Stiles' cheek. 

Stiles had never felt so proud of anything in his entire life.

Derek moved barely an inch as he picked up a new pace and now nailed Stiles’ prostate every time. Stiles tried to hold off, might have ripped some of Derek’s hair from gripping and pulling so hard, trying to hold on to something because it just felt like the Earth was shaking, except the Earth was him and the world around didn’t exist except for this one feeling building up inside of him.

His cock was trapped between their bellies, barely getting any attention and screaming for it, until Derek finally took pity and started stroking it in time with his thrusts.

 _Started_ was the key word here because Stiles… came right away as soon as Derek’s fingers brushed against the underside.

Everything became blurry and wonderful for a couple of minutes. He was definitely talking, nonsensical noises and words.

Derek was still moving, going faster in a broken rhythm, chasing his own orgasm. 

Stiles just kept talking because that was just what Stiles did, wasn’t it? Talking. Saying words, and Derek’s name maybe. And again the name tasted different, tasted like _home_ and _belonging_ and all of these feelings that didn’t make sense.

Stiles just wanted to see how Derek looked when he came, (for archival purposes), but his brain was still so fuzzy, there was no way to understand what the look on Derek’s face could possibly mean when he did.

Stiles brushed a thumb over Derek’s cheek, that soft spot just above the stubble. Such a pretty little patch of skin right there. 

“You’re so good for me,” Stiles heard himself say. 

Derek let out a small breathless whimper. 

Stiles found himself regretting the absence of a knot because that was one piece of folklore he would have liked to try out right now. Not for any of the crazy kinky things, but just to have a good excuse to keep Derek nestled in between his legs for a little while longer. 

But instead, Derek was slowly pulling out. Stiles felt oversensitive and the feeling of Derek’s come in him so strange and foreign that his dick almost twitched in interest. Almost. Stiles’ body was drained of every ounce of energy, trembling.

“Gonna get us something to clean up,” Derek murmured softly as if speaking any louder would disrupt the moment.

“M’kay,” Stiles mumbled, no way he was going to move. He didn't even move his leg out of the way. 

Derek got up, turned the light on in the hallway, illuminating his naked body, his chiseled abs glistening with sweat and some of Stiles’ come. So incredibly hot. 

It was freezing without Derek’s warmth there, but Stiles couldn’t seem to control his limbs just yet to curl up under the blankets or do anything. 

Luckily Derek didn’t take long and was back with a damp cloth within a minute. 

Icy cold damp cloth. “Jesus fucking Christ!” Stiles cursed when Derek settled back in between his legs, wrapped a hand around one of his ankles to lift his leg and started to slowly clean his inner thigh and move up to some very hypersensitive areas. “Warn a guy.”

The soft look on Derek’s face was not the roll of eyes he had expected. Derek simply brushed his lips over the side of Stiles’ knee and didn’t say anything. 

Stiles had never felt so exposed as he did right now under the weight of Derek’s gaze. 

“Thanks,” Stiles’ voice cracked on the word. 

Derek didn’t answer, just kept looking at him like _that_. Every brush of the cloth sent chills all over Stiles’ body. Not all of them were caused by the cold.

Stiles quickly glanced away from Derek, toward the window to see the grey light still getting brighter. It seemed to be time to get up and start the day now.

“Scoot,” Derek said when Stiles was probably clean enough. “Don’t stay in the wet spot.”

“But-”

Derek didn’t even give Stiles time to protest anything, pushed him onto the clean cold side and just pressed himself all against Stiles’ side as if they were now only allowed to use the space of a twin bed.

“Let’s just sleep,” Derek said, “it’s still snowing.”

“It’s still snowing,” Stiles repeated, turning and burrowing his face into Derek’s chest, getting all close and personal with the soft chest hair and all the warmth still seeping out of this one man.

It was still snowing and that seemed to mean they were still doing this. Cuddling was a thing to do when people got snowed in in a cold cabin, at least until they had slept enough to function. 

He sneaked his arms around Derek’s waist, pulled him even closer and felt Derek’s warm hands on the expanse of his back.

So they were hugging now.

*

They were hard again when they woke up. Cocks brushing and hips softly rocking in their sleep.

Stiles’ eyes fluttered open and he met Derek’s intense gaze on him.

“Hey,” Derek breathed out. 

The light from the hallway was still on, the light from outside finally at the brightest it would probably get during a snowstorm. It wasn’t that Derek’s face just now was not an incredibly beautiful sight to wake up to but Stiles still wanted to hide away. He reached for the blanket tangled around their bodies and pulled it up over their heads.

“Hey,” he replied when they were finally in the dark again.

He hid his face in Derek’s neck. He had to try it, just block out the rest of the world and hide himself there, like Derek had seemed to enjoy hiding in that particular spot on Stiles' neck before. Stiles could still feel it.

They were pressed chest to chest without any room to move. 

Yet, Derek took it as an invitation to wrap both of their cocks with one hand and stroke them gently together, short shallow strokes, just enough to keep them hard and… so they were doing this. Again. A second time. 

Stiles moaned and admitted defeat, threw the blanket off of them so he could fumble for the bottle of lube discarded somewhere on the other side of the bed. 

He just needed a little. 

With the new position and the glide made easier, Derek picked up the pace. They weren’t going for finesse, but it was still so so good. Hard and fast and effective. Derek kept his eyes on Stiles every second, a little infuriating to be getting studied like that. Stiles had to kiss him, kiss him so he would focus on something else than just Stiles’ blush spreading across his cheek and neck and chest as he was getting hot all over again, and Stiles could focus on something other than that strange feeling twisting in his chest.

Derek started talking again but Stiles was too underwater already to really know what he was saying. Though he still answered him with a _yes_ and a _me too_. 

Somehow that was enough for both of them to come, breathing each other for a moment while their hearts still tried to break free.

*

By the end of the weekend, the storm wasn’t one hundred percent done but certainly should be enough to reach the main road. 

They really put the whole time to good use. Between the quick hand-jobs and the not-so-quick blowjobs and the phenomenal full on sex. 

The snow falling and the lack of heating didn’t seem like a big deal anymore. Stiles was barely wearing clothes at all. Why bother with clothes when he could just walk around the cabin all goosebumps and perky nipples and with just one look could find himself wrapped in a big werewolf blanket of warmth and kisses. He would never wear any clothes or turn on the heater ever again. 

They had taken to giving each other sponge baths by heating some water in the kettle. The whole thing was absolutely ridiculous but at least they weren’t too gross and could happily get gross again in all the ways and positions they could think of.

Stiles’ small bottle of lube betrayed him around the third time Derek fingered him open, either as a sign they were having too much sex or as a way to say that Derek was using too much lube or maybe to force Stiles to accept the idea that they were actually going to need to stop the sexathlon and leave.

Either way, a huge betrayal of karma. Stiles wasn’t done as long as the storm was still raging on. 

He told as much to Derek who seemed ready to give up. There was no giving up where Stiles was concerned. 

He annoyed Derek so much at lunch time, telling him that with all the sex and all the prepping they had done in the morning and the little time that had actually passed since then, he was still ready to go. Stiles could still feel some of Derek’s come in there which should be gross but was just incredibly hot. He said that over and over until Derek finally heard him, gave in and reluctantly went along with the plan. 

Or not so reluctantly this time either, as he bent him over the kitchen table, pulling his sweatpants off just enough to expose his ass and spread his ass cheeks open, went to tease with his fingers for a second as if to check. And he just slid home. Right there with Stiles on the kitchen table. 

“Fuck,” Stiles groaned because no matter how much he wanted it, it still felt like a lot. 

By that point in time Derek had gotten to learn what Stiles’ body felt like when he enjoyed himself so he didn't ask, he didn’t even twitch or hesitate because even through the burn, fuck, Stiles was having the time of his life and Derek knew that. It felt so great that he knew that. Derek wrapped himself around Stiles’ back, kissing and biting at his shoulders and his neck.

Stiles’ whole body was turning into a trail map of love bites and bruises.

“Fuck, you’re big,” Stiles laughed, breathlessly mocking himself for all his terribly wonderful ideas.

Derek hummed in agreement and started moving.

Sweatpants finally ripped to shreds, Stiles ended up putting one knee on the tabletop, spread wide and groaning and grunting and cursing with every thrust, desperately trying to find something to hold on to but giving up and just taking it, letting Derek hold him and take him. Crescent bruises left on his hips from Derek’s fingers digging into his soft skin as he pounded into him.

He would be able feel this for days. That was exactly the plan. When this whole thing would be over, Stiles just wanted to carry as many reminders of it as he could, for as long as he could.

The whole house reeked of sex and sweat by the end of it, when the snow finally seemed to stop. Even Stiles could smell it, no need to wonder what it felt like to Derek. 

It was time to leave, and for some reason Stiles found himself wishing he could bottle it up for safe keeping. 

Not just the smell of a lot of sweat, come and Stiles and Derek all mixed into one, but the whole weekend. Make one of these snow globe to keep the memories of this feeling under sprinkles of snow. 

*

Stiles wanted to laugh or cry or something else entirely because of all the bottled up emotions and sensations from the whole weekend that were all twirling inside of him.

The purpose of this weekend had been to just get his fill of all the pack bonding and leave here feeling a little less homesick. And there he was, already missing this more than he had before.

Derek kept making it worse, glancing at him with that pained look every time he thought Stiles wouldn’t see.

“Dude, stop. Stop. It’s okay, we had a _What Happens in Vegas_ kind of bubble, it’s okay. I’m not going to break or anything. Stop,” Stiles said, busying himself by throwing his dirty clothes back into his backpack and pushing them down with more force than necessary. These poor clothes weren’t to blame for any of it but it still felt good to make them pay.

“You…” Derek stopped.

Stiles was purposefully not looking at him but he knew he was frowning with that confused puppy look that was utterly too adorable for an alpha werewolf. 

“I love you.” Derek rushed out.

Stiles spun around so fast he slipped, tangling his feet into the corner of the blanket that was on the ground and landed his ass hard on the wooden floor.

“I’m in love with you,” Derek continued, as if to make it clearer. He hadn’t even twitched seeing Stiles’ ungraceful fall, he was used to it.

“Dude,” Stiles snorted, still sitting on the ground. He didn’t feel like he could get up just yet. “Don’t tell me you fall in love with every person you fuck.”

“No,” he said, stepping into the room and around the bed to stand next to Stiles. “No, I don’t.”

“You know, it’s common knowledge, sex and serotonin and oxytocin, that all messes up the brain,” Stiles was still on the ground, looking up at Derek. “I can talk to you about science if you want.”

It’d be so easy to get on his knees, pull Derek’s zipper down and put his mouth on him, end this pointless and painful conversation, go for something easier and with a real satisfying reward. No heartache.

Derek looked down to him, pupils dilating and heat so clear in his gaze, Stiles could tell he thought about the same thing. 

“I don’t need any science talk, Stiles.” 

“Then what do you need?” Stiles asked, running a hand through his hair. He got up then. He needed to feel taller. “Because this makes no sense. You can barely stand me on a good day. You don’t love me, you don’t even like me.”

“I do,” Derek said. Like it was that simple. 

What the actual fuck. 

“Since when?!” Stiles almost shouted. “I’ve been gone for almost four years now. I am barely coming home. Sure, I come home when there’s trouble but there’s just a lot less of that these days, and yeah, for the holidays and in summer. Okay, we see each other during the summer but what, Derek? You just saw me all red sunburned skin in august and had a revelation that you’re in love? Nah-ah! That’s not a thing!”

“No, that’s not a thing,” Derek agreed, entirely too calm for this clusterfuck of a conversation. “I had to tell you because they wouldn’t have let me come back if I hadn’t. But I also wanted to - I _want_ you to know because after everything that happened, I -”

“They? Who?” Stiles narrowed his eyes. A strong sense of insane fury built up inside of him. He was getting angry now, it was easier to deal with anger clutching at his lungs than whatever else this was supposed to be.

Derek didn’t interpret Stiles’ killer glare as anything or just decided to ignore it as he took a step closer.

“Everyone. Everyone knows.” Derek shrugged. “And in their words, I’ve been a pain in the ass and needed to confess. That’s why they all cancelled.”

“Oh,” Stiles huffed out his annoyance. “Big bad alpha had to be bullied into confessing. How romantic.”

“You’ve asked me ‘since when.’ And it might as well be since the beginning -“

“Well, that’s fucking grand.” Stiles bit out, Derek closed his eyes, staying calm even as he was getting interrupted again. “I’m supposed to believe you’ve been pining over me all this time? Why would that be? Why wouldn't you say anything? Because we’re just such a weird match, right? No way you’d make a move on this weird kid unless you were forced to, right?”

Derek took another step closer, his fingers finding the hem of Stiles’ shirt and sliding under it to brush against his sides. “Why don’t you just tell me you don’t feel the same way, so we can be done with it?”

“Tell you?” Stiles had half a mind to punch him in the face and run for the door. 

“Yeah.”

“So what? So you’ll know the truth no matter what I say?”

“Yeah,” Derek said, nonchalant. “Can’t turn that off I’m afraid.”

Stiles grimaced, the whole swirling in his gut made him queasy. He practiced the words in his mind, trying to feel exactly when his heart spiked or not.

“Do you feel the same way?” Derek asked, his face so close now.

Stiles swallowed hard. “I - I don’t.”

Derek looked away with a sigh, lips twitching into a smile that he tried to conceal.

“You tell that to your pack,” Stiles continued, throat so tight he could barely breathe. “You tell these betraying, plans cancelling and bullying assholes that they missed a wonderful weekend, they missed a beautiful snowstorm and all the snowmen and all the snow angels and the snowball fights and it was all for nothing. You tell them that.”

Derek came back to look at him now. “Yeah, I’ll tell them that.”

“And you, you’re an asshole too,” Stiles continued. “You need to be aware of that.”

“Oh, I am aware.”

Stiles’ heart was beating a mile a minute against his chest. Derek reached a hand up to cup Stiles’ jaw, there was a sort of small glint of knowledge in his eyes.

Stiles hated him.

Derek leaned in closer and breathed, inhaled deeply.

“Don’t try to smell the truth on me,” Stiles warned.

“I don’t need to,” Derek murmured, eyes so bright Stiles was almost mesmerized. “You love me.”

Stiles sighed loudly. “You’re wrong, you cocky asshole. I’m never gonna give you that pleasure.”

Derek’s smile was absolutely gorgeous. He dipped his chin as if he was still too shy to feel happy. Time stopped moving for a moment, only ticking by the sound of Stiles’ heart.

“Lie to me one more time,” Derek glanced up back at Stiles. His eyebrows twitched, looking way too pleased. 

“Ugh, fucker!” Stiles surged forward, his lips finding Derek’s in a hard possessive kiss, all desperation and need and every other word that he suddenly felt were lacking in him.

“Derek…” 

And the name tasted like _want_ and _love,_ for once Stiles felt confident enough that this one thing he could allow himself to want and have and keep. 

Crazy what two days could do.

“I know,” Derek smiled. “Me too.”

*

It turned out a sexathlon was not only a good hobby during a snowstorm, it was also a great hobby in summer in California during a heat wave when going outside felt like melting.

The betas were traumatized. That was Stiles’ sweet sweet revenge.


End file.
